Azkaban - 6

The walls of the prison arose steep and menacing from the icy cold sea, forcing Harry to crane his neck to see the top. He could see the water line that the tide had marked on the stone, making it appear smoother and darker than the remainder of the structure.

The captain maneuvered the boat into a small inlet that Harry hadn't noticed at first. As he watched the boat make the treacherous journey up the channel, he saw several of the jagged stones move out of their way. Obviously the channel was controlled by magic.

When they reached the end, they docked on a simple wooden platform to debark. The moment Harry stepped off the boat, he felt a chill deeper than anything weather-related sink into his skin. He broke into a clammy sweat despite the cold, and his head felt suddenly woozy. He had no doubt there were Dementors nearby.

As the small party approached the stone wall, a doorway magically appeared several meters above their heads. A metal stairway was lowered, and they ascended into the prison. Tonks pressed her wand against the door, which emitted a series of soft pops before gliding open.

The blast of air coming from inside the prison was colder than the sea air in which they were standing. Harry followed Ron inside, his heart pounding and his head swimming. A bout of nausea churned his stomach, nearly causing him to gag.

A tall, thin, cloaked figure stood on the far side of the room, observing them as they entered. Harry vision blurred as a distant screaming began to echo in his head. Instinctively, he reached for his wand only to find it missing. He took deep breaths, trying to control his rising panic.

This is going to be harder than I thought.

He stumbled as Tonks quickly ushered them across the room and would have fallen if Ron hadn't caught him.

"You all right, mate?" Ron whispered as they entered the long stone corridor outside the first room. Ron was very pale, making the freckles on his face stand out darkly.

Harry nodded, his world steadying again after they'd left the room where the Dementor still stood. His stomach roiled, and he was very glad he hadn't eaten much for breakfast.

"That's right, Potter," Malfoy drawled, staring at Ron and him with amusement glinting in his steel gray eyes. "I'd forgotten you had problems with Dementors. They make you faint, don't they?" Despite his taunts, Malfoy's pallor had faded, as well.

"Back off, Malfoy," Ron growled, staring at Harry with concern.

Harry didn't even bother with a comment; it was taking all his effort to remain standing. He'd tried to put a hand on the cold stone of the wall in an effort to collect himself, but that had been a bad idea. There was something alive in the walls. Harry didn't know how else to describe it. The stone was cold and slightly slimy from the damp chill, but there was also a deep agony that emanated from it. It was almost as if the stone had absorbed all the misery and torment from the people that had been imprisoned here through the years.

Harry watched as water dripped from the ceiling and ran in rivulets in certain spots along the massive corridor. It looked as if the walls were crying.

"Are you going to be able to do this, Harry?" Tonks asked. She'd moved to his side and lowered her voice. Her hair had been her traditional bubblegum pink when they'd left that morning, but since entering the prison the color had faded and become dull.